Aunt Gert Goes into A Nursing Home

Today, Life in the Boomer Lane and Now Husband moved her Aunt Gert from an assisted living facility in Pennsylvania to a nursing home in Northern Virginia. She invites anyone who cares, to join her in being outraged that a perfectly lucid (albeit heavily medicated and emotionally fragile) human being is forced to go to a nursing home solely because Medicaid won’t pay for assisted living facilities. She then invites them to see the small shreds of humor nestled among the truly gut-wrenching ordeal of the entire moving experience.

The first stop was the assisted living facility and the first task was to pack up Aunt Gert’s belongings. The drawers contained dozens of outfits that her aunt had never actually owned. While Aunt Gert always looked clean and put together, it was clear that the assisted living had some kind of humongous common pool of clothing that everyone shared. All sizes and tastes were represented, and included several dress-for-success jackets from Ann Taylor. Gert, age 92 and in a wheelchair, had never actually been gainfully employed in her life. It was unlikely that at this stage of her life she would need professional clothing.

Aside from the shoes on her feet, there were several pairs in the closet. One was a pair of sneakers with laces. The other pair looked like gardening shoes. Gert, in addition to having never worked, also never worked out. And she certainly never worked in the garden. LBL left all of the clothes and shoes in the room, presumably for the next occupant.

Arriving at the nursing home, after the initial business was taken care of (consisting of Gert announcing that she hated LBL and Now Husband and putting them on notice that she was leaving and going home–home being the house she lived in many years ago that was sold), LBL showed Gert the photos of family members she had taken from Gert’s previous room. She asked Gert to identify one photo of a young male with cap and gown. “I have no idea who he is,” said Gert, “the photo came with the room.” Given that all of the clothing and shoes certainly did, LBL trashed the photo.

Next up was a trip to the dining room, where residents sat patiently while an equal number of workers managed to deliver food with alarming confusion and in slow-motion. While LBL, Now Husband, and Aunt Gert waited, a woman in a wheelchair rolled up to the table and positioned herself next to Now Husband. While Gert glared at her, she leaned in Now Husband’s direction and cooed, “I don’t know which table I am supposed to be at.” Now Husband, who has a long and successful history with women in bars (and everyplace else), leaned right back into her, smiled and said, “I wonder what one has to do to get some food around here.” If one could swoon while seated, she did. LBL realized in that moment that if she predeceased Now Husband and he ended up in a nursing home, she had just seen the future.

Nursing home decisions always are. It shocks me that someone else would have the right to make a decision like that for me if the time comes. One reason I’m glad I don’t have kids. They can’t do that to me! (Or is it “for” me?)

Very enjoyable and at the same time a sad time for your aunt and yourselves. I had my dad in a nursing home for 19 months before he died. Whilst the nursing home wonderful things for him care wise there was the issue of him being disorientated from time to time and for a man who lived over 60 years of his life in the one house that was an issue as removal from his home was gut wrenching for me as much as for him. Though I do have to note that dad’s room was empty when he arrived and emptied when he left, what a strange set up to have all those items not belonging to your aunt including a photo of some unknown person.

Been there, done that. Twice. No, wait, more than that, in fact. My mom is currently in assisted living. In my state, we have a special program that ups the income limit a bit and pays for assisted living instead of a nursing home. Guess I didn’t realize how good we have it. My mom had been in an assisted living in Virginia, actually, and we had to move her to the midwest. The saddest part about the nursing home was watching everyone wearing great big terry cloth towels as bibs. Seeing your mother wearing a bib is heartbreaking. She’s doing better now, though.

Well done, LBL. The clothing confusion, dining room ambiance–you told it like it is. Your aunt is safe and taken care of, though. It’s better than being alone at home and being afraid and at risk.
Loved the part about your hubby–what a shameless flirt! I pray there will be a few ice flows left for those of us who want to take a ride into the sunset. 🙂

It’s just sad to me. I watched my husbands mother deteriorate and it scared me. Not having any young people in my family younger than myself, stories like this frighten me as to what will become of me with no LBL to take me to a nursing home.

Never an easy thing to do & I feel your tug with having to. I am afraid the clothing and possessions experience your Aunt Gert had at the facility is the same the world over. Hoping she settles to a new normal soon and is well cared for, regardless of the surroundings. You did good, despite how you may feel.

Hard to hit the ‘like’ button on this, though your writing is always awesome. Perhaps too close to home at the moment, with a move to assisted living just completed for my mother-in-law. That our society can’t capably and thoughtfully take care of our elder population – without exacting a financial toll that for most is prohibitive -makes me livid.

The clothing issue sounds familiar, even for my mother’s short stay in the rehab area of an assisted living facility. I recall my grandmother’s stay in a nursing home. She was scolded by the staff when she would take off at rocket speed with her walker flying down the wide corridors. My future before me.

Renee, thanks for sharing. This is a hard process that no one looks forward to. I appreciate the visual images you portrayed for us. For me, I think I want to go like one of my great aunts who fell in her house hit her head and was gone. My wife’s Aunt Mary lived in her own home and we she finally needed care went in five weeks. Thanks again, BTG

Sometimes life is not easy. This is one of the harder parts. The other harder part is wondering if it will happen to you. My hope is that I go to bed one night and just don’t wake up…a long time from now.

you managed to find the humour in a really tough situation. We bring my dog to visit my grandmother at the nursing home she’s at, and it’s really the only thing that makes it bearable. Much easier to find the fun in such a depressing place when various little old ladies tell me such things as “You take care of the pastor’s dog – he put a lot of responsibility on you girls!”, and accuse my dad of stealing their hats (when not flirting outrageously with him, of course).

My daughter brought her boys to see my aunt when they were about one and three. It was a disaster. This time, we will be prepared: We will bring toys with us and then go to Chucky Cheese for lunch after. I know the folks at the nursing home will get a kick out of seeing the boys, now aged three and five.

You were good for Aunt Gert and you and your husband did what had to be done with humor and gentle kindness. That is so important and I’m glad she is adjusting. Thank you for sharing this experience. It is a reality check done with a smile.

Top Posts

Life in the Boomer Lane: Musings of A Former Hula Hoop Champion

If you can't get enough of Life in the Boomer Lane's humor, or, if your life is tawdry and meaningless, you can purchase many of LBL's posts in Kindle format, for the same price as you would pay for a mojo grande salted caramel skim latte. Or, you can buy the book and the latte as well, and really live it up. Just don't spill the latte all over the Kindle in your exhuberance.

Go to the Kindle section on Amazon and search Life in the Boomer Lane. Your life will change immediately.